The House of the Moon
by everybodylieslikeme
Summary: House is just about the same as usual... but with a little more bite. Foul language and smut that will have you howling...*smirk*
1. Chapter 1

**This idea is the result of watching House and reading books of a supernatural nature simultaneously. Also with a little inspiration from a certain writer by the name of Sinister Scribe. She doesn't know me, but I love her work, and you all should check it out as well if you haven't already. Anyways… Enjoy!**

The clouds were angry tonight, unleashing their fury in a downpour of stinging icy droplets. Lighting crackled in the atmosphere and thunder growled a low warning to the dwellers of Princeton. The very sky demanded you remain indoors or face its wrath.

Gregory House was never the kind of man to heed a warning, and so he found himself plodding along the streets. His burning frustration did nothing to keep away the cold rain that soaked his clothes, causing them to cling uncomfortably like a second skin. The weather matched his mood, stormy frustration; the howling wind expressed the screaming pain in his mangled thigh.

The leg, quick to issue a grumbling complaint with every move he made, had now begun a solid roar of displeasure, occasionally sending a bolt of pure agony up his spine. He leaned heavily on his cane, hoping for a reprieve that the tool just wouldn't give. He hated the thing, and its black wood seemed to absorb his hatred and glow, mocking him with it.

His right hand gripped the smooth handled in a white knuckle grip as the wood creaked in protest. His other reached into his jeans pocket for the umpteenth time, as if the vial of bitter white pills that numbed the pain, numbed him, would suddenly appear between now and the last time he had checked. He unleashed a low growl of frustration, and then glanced around him, his laser blue eyes scouring the landscape. He felt uneasy, like he was being watched, but shrugged it off and continued walking.

His handsome features were twisted strangely, part vicious scowl, part grimace of pain. At first one would just assume he was a wild card, angry at the world and everyone in it. Very few, if anyone, got to really know him, to look into those endless blue eyes and see the spirit, once so beautiful and free, now crippled and broken, but not quite tamed, not yet.

His eyes lit on a small copse of trees sheltering a relatively dry patch of land, and after a moments deliberation, he decided it would be an okay place to hole up until the worst of the storm passed. If he was completely honest with himself, it was mostly so he could find a place to collapse, because with the way his body shook there was no way in hell he was making it to his apartment.

The lights of the street barely touched the edge of the trees, and he hoped it would be as dry as he hoped. Painfully clearing the small curb, he set off across the spongy turf and making a beeline for his target. His cane was sucked into the drenched earth with every step with a wet plopping noise that punctuated the squelching of his sneakers with each step. Squelch-squelch-plop. Repeat.

He focused on his steps, their rhythm the only thing keeping him on his feet until he reached shelter. So intense was his focus, that his heart skipped a beat in his chest when the rhythm suddenly changed. Squelch-squelch-plop-THUD. The near boom shook the ground somewhere behind him and to his left, and he halted his movement for a moment, tilting his ear in that direction, sure that his weary mind was playing tricks on him.

Lightning crashes overhead, drowning out any other sound, and he shakes off that strange feeling of being watched. He's nearly to the trees now, and he begins to grasp just exactly how dark and out of the way his "shelter" is. A car passes on the road, and its headlights don't touch him, just rolls past, probably carrying its passenger home, out of this wicked rain.

Suddenly the sound is back again, only instead of one loud thud far away, there are more, each in quick succession, moving closer. His heart breaks into a gallop in his chest, and he begins to limp faster, not quite running, simply because his leg won't allow it. His rational mind stumbles over itself, attempting to calm him down. _Just a dog, if you ignore it, it will go away. Or it could be nothing, just you imagining things in the dark. _His overly brilliant mind worked against itself. _First, you haven't had nearly enough Vicodin to be hallucinating, and second, there sure as hell was something out there, and it was definitely not a dog. Not an ordinary one anyway._ Before he could puzzle out what that meant, the speed of the thuds increased, drew closer, until he felt sure it was right behind him.

He felt hot breath on the back of his neck, and every hair on his body stood up. "Oh shit." The words escaped his lips before he could stop them, and the thing behind him rumbled darkly, sounding oddly like a chuckle. He stopped and looked ahead, at the stand of trees that now seemed far out of reach. He drew in a steadying breath, drawing from a reserve of courage he hadn't know he had, and turned around…

The beast loved nights like this, not many people out, the rain providing camouflage from unwanted eyes. It hunted with near impunity, stalking out its unfortunate prey with barely controlled prejudice. In its mind, running on a much baser level, more instinctual and less human, it barely paused to be sure the risk of discovery was low before pouncing. But that was only when it was hungry.

Tonight it sought a game, a new plaything. As it slunk along a mostly quiet road, it spotted its next game. Its prey appeared to be weak, leaning heavily on a cane, eliciting its predatory instinct. It padded along silently behind the human, smelling anger and frustration rolling off of him in waves, almost overpowered by a deep well of pain and sadness. Suddenly the human looked about, and the beast quickly faded into a nearby shadow, easily evading the man's notice.

Its new game suddenly decided to make things easy for the beast, and it nearly pouted as the man turned away from the lights of the road, headed for a secluded copse of trees. Exhaustion now exuded from the man's every pore, and he seemed to be having trouble staying on his feet. The beast decided to alert the man to his presence and no longer softened his steps, instead allowing his enormous paws to beat into the ground loudly. It heard the stutter in the man's heartbeat and increased his pace, momentarily silenced by the snarling thunder.

It drew closer to the man, hearing his heart begin to speed in his chest as he tried to move faster, still slower than a snail's pace compared with the beasts easy power and speed. It was now just behind the man, the beast's great head looming above the man, so it dropped its nose slightly, angling his head down, literally breathing down the man's neck. The beast was surprised at what it smelled, the mans scent was so fresh from the rain, spicy and spiked with testosterone. He could detect a hint of something bitter in the man's blood, a drug, probably used to handle the pain. Up close, what had already been strong was now overpowering, pure sour tang of agony pounded through the humans veins with every beat of his heart.

The beast felt a moment of admiration for the humans staggering stamina. It required a certain strength to live through such pain, and it was obvious that this human had it in spades. The human had halted now, a curse bursting from his lips, and the beast rumbled in amusement. He was beginning to feel the stirrings of respect for this human.  
>Suddenly the man heaved a deep breath, seeming to draw something into himself from the very air, and turned around to face the beast. Surprise flooded through it, followed quickly by shock, as the respect for the man was cemented in place. Never had its prey faced the beast head on, and in an instant, the beast changed his course of action. This human would not do for a quick meal or game, so instead of taking something from the man, he would give him something instead.<p>

The man's face was etched with lines born of dealing with endless pain for an extended period of time. There was weariness in his eyes, but also a challenge. His body was strong, his broad shoulders set and his posture stood tall, leaning slightly to the left. Yes, this human would do.

**Okay so that's chapter one. I've got chapter two in my head, so It'll probably be done tonight or sometime tomorrow. I've listed this as House and Cuddy, but Cuddy won't be appearing for another chapter or so, and I think my main focus will be on House. No promises though. Oh and for the purposes of this story, I'm fiddling with the age to make them a bit younger, so House is around 35, and Cuddy is 30, but the infarction already happened, and Stacy has come back and been booted out on her ass again. That's about all the backstory that I know for sure right now. Hope you enjoyed reading, leave a review on your way out! Thanks **


	2. Chapter 2

**K guys, I got ahead of myself in writing this, and it ended up needing to be rewritten a few times to get it just right, and I'm still not sure I have exactly what I want. Anyway…enjoy!**

**Also, I think I forgot the disclaimer last chapter, but any House characters belong to Fox and co, but any of the OC's are mine. **

House woke to bright sunlight on his face, beaming directly into his eyes, tinting his eyelids with a starburst pattern of orange and red. His first thought was to wonder how so much light had gotten in through his bedroom, before his eyes snapped open in alarm. "Awh Hell."

He was decidedly NOT in his bedroom, unless he had recently decided to remove the roof and replace it with a canopy of leaves and branches. Suddenly a low rumbling voice, with a thick Irish accent came from just behind him, "Not quite, little brother. I dun believe you'll be seein hell anytime soon, less you wind up in catholic school. Bloody mess that is."

House twisted his upper body in the direction of the voice, doing his best to hide his shock at finding its source. The man in front of him was easily seven feet tall, with broad shoulders and a strong muscular build, put on display by his plain black tee shirt, dark jeans, and brown leather work boots. His face was a myriad of contradictions, his skin wrinkleless and smooth indicating youth, while his rich amber eyes carried an inordinate amount of wisdom that could only be gained by years of experiences. His hair was fairly long, the long mahogany strands dropping down over his forehead. House chose to ignore the humor in the other man's voice. "Who are you?"

A grin split the strangers lips before he replied, "I believe the question yer lookin fer, little brother, would be _what_ am I. But you can call me Loki." House observed that Loki's canines were slightly longer than normal, giving his grin a slightly menacing look to it.

"Ok then, what are you? What the hell happened to me last night, and why the fuck are you calling me little brother?" Houses tone was laced with power, a tone he used to bully people into doing whatever he wished. Loki appeared to be unfazed, his grin undiminished by Houses sharp tone.

"Seems somebody's a mite cranky inna mornin. Don't worry; my news is bound to give yer spirits a bit of a lift. You, little brother, are, as of about 12 hours ago now, a new man. At my hands if I may add. There a plenty o names for our kind, Werewolf being the most common I believe." House blinked at the man, before snorting a laugh out his nose.

"You mean to tell me that you are a werewolf" Loki simply nodded. "And that you somehow made me one." Another nod. "Well this is just fucking perfect." His sarcasm seemed to be lost on Loki, that or he chose to ignore it.

"If you think about it for a bit, then yea. I'll have you know there's quite a bit of nonsense about, but this werewolf business issant the curse the films make it out to be. It's quite a gift actually. Tell me something, little brother, How do you feel?" House's thought process stopped, his amusement at his strange predicament shoved aside as he did a quick body scan. With Loki as such a glaring distraction, he hadn't noticed quite how _good_ he felt. Forget good, he felt simply spectacular, if you discounted the pounding headache building behind his eyes.

The pain he had woken to every morning for the past 5 years was simply gone. Not lessened or weakened, but gone, as if it had never been there. His eyes widened in disbelief, and he rolled from the ground to his feet. A wave of dizziness washed over him, and a peculiar feeling that he was suddenly much higher than usual struck him. With his voice filled with a childlike wonder, he whispered, "How?"

Loki's face turned somber and serious, his words no longer carried humor, but a gravity and honesty that could not be denied. "You are not the human man you once were, and once you complete the change you never will be again. I'm warning ya know little brother, that if you choose to go back to what you were, that thing that haunts you, the pain, that'll come back, and with a vengeance."

House shook his head, knowing already that strange as this was, he had no intention of going back. "You said I had to complete the change… how do I do that?"  
>Loki's grin returned, "Well now that happens to be the easy part lad. Ya jus kick back and wait for the full moon to show up. That bit those film folk got right, but after the first change, you'll jus about be able to change when it pleases ya. Good deal woulden ya think little brother?" Loki had an easy, unruffled way about him that House somehow couldn't resist; countering his constant need to challenge the people he met. Something about the man made House relax.<br>" Sounds peachy. And Loki, you can call me Greg. That little brother crap will just piss me off." Loki let out a loud bellowing laugh, raising one brow at House before replying.  
>"Now now, little brother, isn't that entirely the point?"<p>

House stared down at his thigh in disbelief. Sure the pain had gone, but his mind had never considered the possibility that the ugly scar might disappear with it. His leg was completely unblemished, not the tiniest hint of the massive horrendous scar to be found. A shocked laugh bubbled out of his chest. He hadn't been in this good a shape his entire life, even in his old lacrosse days.

Long lean muscle clung to every inch of his body, flexing powerfully with each subtle shift in his weight and his slow even breathing. This shouldn't have been possible, yet there he stood. He tugged on the jeans Loki had pulled out a backpack, specially tailored to fit long around his now exceptionally high height.

If his estimation was correct, he had somehow grown nearly half a foot in the span of a few short hours, his already considerable stature now at epic proportions. His shoulders were now set a bit wider apart, and thick bands of muscle ran over his shoulders, down his arms. He flexed his hands, supinating and pronating as he observed the way they moved, so fluid and smooth. Loki's voice startled him in his observation.

"Greatest feeling in the world I'd say." House looked up at him. His mind, always so analytical, so stuck in the firm belief of science, had slowly begun to accept this new reality. It had to be real, because if it wasn't, then he truly had gone crazy. So with a grin he replied,  
>"You have no idea."<p>

**Okay so I'm not quite sure how I want to proceed with this, I could go both ways, but one way would be a bit more difficult for the way my muse works, the other would be much simpler, but would stray from the more…sinister beginning? So I'll put it to a vote. Leave me a review with your opinion…Should this story be fun? Or should it be a little more…gloomy? Enough reviews to have a clear majority, and I'll start writing the next installment. Thanks for reading! **


	3. Chapter 3

**I took all your reviews into consideration and I'm going with more fun (as well as sexy). Thank god you guys picked that, because that's all I seem to be able to write. So I've been slacking on this one a bit, but here's part three. Enjoy!**

Lisa Cuddy was having a good morning. The sun had been shining, there had been little traffic, and there hadn't been some disaster she'd been needed to sort out immediately upon arrival. Perhaps it had something to do with a certain Head of diagnostics being missing. She checked the clock on her desk and noted that it was still only 9 o'clock, not quite late enough for her to send out a search party.

She settled into her chair with the intent to beat back a growing stack of paperwork before it raged out of control. Suddenly her phone rang, and her assistant stuck his head through a crack in her door,  
>"Doctor Cuddy, its Doctor House on the line, he says its urgent."<p>

Cuddy rolled her eyes and sent the assistant back out with a thank you that she didn't mean in the slightest. She felt a slight guilty twinge when she realized she didn't even know the young mans name, having gone through assistants so fast that she had given up. Picking up the phone and placing it to her ear, she didn't bother hiding the annoyance in her voice,  
>"What is it now House? Caught something from one of you're hookers?"<p>

His voice, sounding horribly hoarse and broken, surprised her,  
>"Now Cuddles, have you forgotten your manners? You must be good in bed if the donations keep rolling in."<p>

She sighed, letting the comment slide, she was used to them anyway,  
>"How long are you gonna be out?"<p>

A dry crackling laugh that dissolved quickly into harsh coughing came through the line,  
>"Dr. Cuddy, do I hear you caring over there?" He coughed loudly again, "Probably a week or two. I picked up some antibiotics, but it seems to be settling in for the long haul. Put my team to use in other departments, I'll get back to you."<p>

Cuddy felt a twinge of worry flicker in her stomach, but shrugged it off,  
>"Okay House. Get better soon." She hung up before he could comment. Something niggled at the back of her mind, making her slightly uneasy. She decided to stop by his apartment later that week with some soup. Mind made up, she returned to her paperwork, shuffling House to the back of her mind so she could focus.<p>

"Blimey mate that was brilliant!" Loki exclaimed in admiration, clapping House on the shoulder as he set the phone down on his other side. "How d'you get yer voice ta sound like that?"

House lounged beside him on the sofa, lacing his fingers together behind his head and shrugging his shoulders,  
>"What can I say? I have a gift." They laughed together for a moment, and House noted again the strange calming presence that exuded from Loki, taming that constant bitter anger that had been building within him, washing it away with a smooth, unrelenting tide. It wasn't just his body that felt changed, but his whole being, all the sharp corners the pain had cut into his soul being worn down to smooth corners. Not just the bitterness of his once mangled limb was healed, but he could feel a much deeper hurt, one caused when he was just a boy was also being worked on, the kinks being worked out.<p>

He heaved a contented sigh, stretching out both his legs, rolling his ankles, still not getting enough of the ease of movement. He doubted he ever would take the freedom of two whole legs to stand on for granted again. His mind began to wander absently, meandering along the path of his consciousness until suddenly, he leaped to his feet.  
>"How do I go back to the hospital?"<p>

Loki eyed him from his spot on the sofa, body relaxed, amusement flickering in his amber eyes,  
>"Was wonderin when that was gonna hit ya. Simple enough little brother. A bit of a defense mechanism for our kind, if you will. When ya finally go through the change, ya'll develop a… glamour."<p>

Houses brows drew together,  
>"A glamour? Like a disguise?"<p>

Loki grinned, pleased yet again with his choice, this quick mind,  
>"Exactly lad. It's there to let us blend in just a mite better with the other folks about. Can't have you walkin about suddenly taller and miraculously healed of every ailment. That's another perk by the way, you're liver right now is in the same condition 'twas in the day o yer birth, all those nasty drug habits out o yer system. Congrats lad."<p>

House had suspected as much, and it felt good to have his suspicions proven,  
>"Hmmm… interesting. Why the sudden growth spurt anyways?"<p>

Loki settled further into the sofa, making himself comfortable,  
>"You see, for as long as our race can remember, as far back as the roman ages before it goes the way of the dodo, our kind have been at the evolutionary peak of existence. We have always been built stronger, faster, and all around tougher than your average joe. We don't know when the human race hit their little hiccup in the growth process, but back then, it was perfectly normal for a man to stand at about 9 feet tall. Our code being to blend in, we stayed low, in about the 7 to 8 foot range. Then as we stayed the same, the humans began to get shorter and shorter. I suppose our tough little genetic code decided that instead of just knockin off a foot or two, we developed this ability. After the first change, you can project an image that the humans will see, so long as they don go touchin ya. That's a big no no."<p>

House, who had been listening with rapt attention, his mind soaking up the new information, asked,  
>"What happens when they touch?"<p>

Loki answered simply,  
>"The person touching you sees through the glamour, sees your true appearance right before their eyes. Its been said that on occasion, the human sees even deeper, and can actually spot the wolf in you." He shrugged. "Never heard of it myself, but hey, that we even exist proves that some legends have a bit of truth to them."<p>

House grinned for a moment, then sighed.  
>"Cuddy…is going to be a problem then. We seem to have a certain disregard for the others personal space."<p>

Loki's brow furrowed, his head tilting to the side in an oddly canine gesture. Not so odd when House really thought about it.  
>"The bloody hell is you're boss doin touchin ya anyway? Little employer employee shagging goin on little brother?"<p>

House snorted in derision, shaking his head,  
>"Not since college, and I was a few years ahead of her back then. And Cuddy and I, its just this thing we do I guess. Its always been that way. We fight, we flirt, she gets pissed and gets in my face, I push back… it's a never ending cycle." House flopped back down on the couch, his fingers massaging his temple as he thought. Loki remained silent, pondering the odd situation. "You said the change would happen around the full moon right? That's only 3 days away. We can just lay low and make sure nobody comes in and we should be fine right? What could happen?"<p>

**My first cliffhanger. Don't worry, I won't make you wait too long for an update. Also to answer your questions, Loki will in fact be sticking around. He's gonna slip back and forth from the background to the forefront in the story. Maybe I'll even give him a love interest (you did want things sexy, and Loki is one sexy irish werewolf). Anyway thanks for reading, perhaps leave a review on your way out. (might make me update faster) **


	4. Chapter 4

**Here's the next installment of House of the Moon! Sorry for the wait, just started my new job and it's kept me busy. Just a little heads up, even though I've kind of changed the ages to suit my…desires for the story, the team is not the original. It's in that weird transition period where Chase was on the team with Thirteen, Taub, Foreman, and just for kicks and giggles, I'll throw in Kutner, simply because I'm fond of the man, missed him. Oh and Cameron was around there somewhere I believe. Anyways, thanks to everyone who reviewed :) Enjoy!**

It was the morning of the third day, the night of his first change soon to follow. House lay in his bed, listening to the sounds of the morning, dim before but now perfectly clear, his hearing improved exponentially in the past few days. All of his senses had been improving dramatically, smells stronger and lines clearer in his vision.

He could hear Loki's rumbling snores from the living room, where the werewolf was sprawled on his couch. He grinned and stretched, flexing and pointing his toes, more than ready to experience the day and all the changes it would bring. Suddenly a knock sounded at the door. "Shit."

Cuddy approached the door to Houses apartment, her mind chasing itself in circles, one part telling her to turn right around and go, the other propelling her forward. The winner was decided when her knuckles rapped on his door. She leaned forward, her ear tilted towards the door as a god awful snoring drifted out into the hall. "What the hell?"

She knew what Houses snore sounded like, and that was not it. Surprising her, the green monster of jealousy reared its head momentarily, before she snuffed it out. Not only did she have no right to be jealous, but that snore was anything but feminine, and seemed to be coming from the couch. She raised her fist to knock again and suppressed a squeak of surprise as the door cracked open.

Houses head poked out, hung low and covered in dark grey hood. It was pulled low, covering most of his face. "What?"

She dropped her hand to her hip, "You've been sick for two days and you haven't called in. What's going on? Who's in there with you?" She watched his hooded head turn, presumably to check on the snoring figure, the sound even louder with the door open.  
>"It's my… friend. And I didn't call in because I already told you I was sick. Didn't believe me?"<p>

She narrowed her eyes at the top of his head, her frustration increasing when she was unable to look him in the eye, her ire wasted on the fabric of his sweater hood. "If I made a habit of believing you when you tell me something we'd both be out of a job, and what do you mean friend? You don't have any friends."

She saw his head tilt up momentarily before he quickly ducked down again.  
>"What do you call Wilson then?"<p>

She felt concern and suspicion well within her, he seemed to be refusing to look up at her. She was so used to seeing his face as they bantered that not being able to see it, not seeing his arresting blue eyes grow brighter as their arguments wore on, not seeing that annoyingly sexy smirk whenever he thought he was winning. "Fine. You have one friend, who so happens to be at the hospital right now, I checked, so who's that?"

He groaned low in his throat, and was surprised when it seemed to rumble through his chest, reverberating into the wood from his fingertips. His neck muscles strained to keep his head pointed down, requiring a superhuman effort to keep from looking at her face. He was surprised at the intensity of his desire to look at her, and it was not doing good things for his plan.

He knew he looked different, he'd seen all signs of aging had reversed, he had been nearing forty, and his lifestyle had been giving him a weathered appearance. Every line had smoothed out, softening the hard lines pain had etched into his features. He knew Cuddy would notice, she was anything but stupid, her sharp grey eyes would discover the change in an instant. "Again, he's a friend, just staying here for a few days."

She rolls her eyes, a useless gesture because he's not looking at her to see it. It's disconcerting. He's obviously picked a story, and he's stubbornly sticking to it. She didn't expect any less from him, but she still feels a twinge of disappointment. "Fine, you don't wanna tell me. I get it. I'll give you 2 more days before you're back to work."

"Make it four." Leave it to House to get as much time outside of the clinic as possible.

"Three. Final offer." He grins, even though she can't see it, she hears it in his voice,

"Deal. Bye Bye Cuddles. Seeya in three days." He promptly closes the door in her face, before leaning against it, sighing in relief as he hears her footsteps down the hall.

_*****That night…*****_

Loki opens his amber eyes to the dim light of Houses living room. He'd only closed them for a moment, and then he'd felt it. The change was coming. "Come 'on laddie, we've got to get you out of the city for awhile."

House had been sitting at his piano, his fingers playing random bits of music, years of practice allowing him to play even as his mind wandered. His voice is calm and sure, "It's time."  
>Loki nods, "Yeah. Brace yourself little brother. It's gonna be a bumpy ride."<p>

They ride silently in Loki's pickup, coming to a stop in a secluded clearing far out in the New Jersey countryside. House can feel the change coming now, coming fast. His skin seems to crawl with energy, his nerve endings raw and every sense on edge. He walks out into the center of the clearing, with Loki trailing behind him. He's not nervous like he'd thought he'd be, his mind is calm, even if his body isn't.

His very bones now seem to vibrate, his hands shake with it. His heart rate increases, blood pounding in his ears. Louder and louder, until he can't hear anything else. His vision flickers, and his nostrils flare. When he feels his heart is about to burst in his chest it hits.

The pain becomes immediately apparent. He had thought he knew pain, thought he'd know it well, as one knows an old friend. He was wrong. The pain of his mangled thigh had been excruciating, but compared with the melting agony he was currently experiencing, it seemed a mere needle stick in comparison. It was everywhere, searing hurt from his scalp down to his toes. His knees give out, and he falls to the ground, palms flat on the warm earth below him, his fingers burrowing in the soft dirt.

Loki, watching, remembers his first change, knows the intense pain that House is now experiencing. He notes how his eyes flicker, the blue becoming backlit with a bright golden yellow. He knows what will happen next.

Every muscle in Houses body is flexing, on high alert. With a sickening crack, he feels his bones begin to shift, lengthening and thickening. He releases a pained scream that changes into a howl as his vocal cords stretch into a new shape. The changes take seconds, minutes, or maybe hours, he doesn't know or particularly care, until finally, the pain ceases.

For a moment he thinks to stand, before realizing he already is, just not the way he's used to. Looking down, the first thing he notices is that he's looking down a rather large dusky black snout, with an equally sooty nose on the end. He sniffs at the air and releases a snort of shock. Probably rather comical to note from an outsiders perspective.

He can smell _everything_. The popcorn in the microwave of the farmhouse 5 miles away, and the surrounding livestock. He can smell the menagerie of animals in the trees around them, and he can smell their fear. He can scent amusement in the air near Loki, who he now towers over, his head nearly 2 feet above his. He looks down at his paws, enormous things that span nearly a foot in width, and covered with still more thick black fur. He flicks his ears and takes a step, adjusting quickly to four feet instead of two.

He makes a quick lap around the clearing, alternating between a steady casual lope and enthusiastic bounding, surely resembling a ridiculously overgrown wolf pup. Loki simply watches, laughing out loud at the man-wolfs antics. Finally he decides to call him back, "Alright pup, worst parts over. Now the fun begins." And with that he takes off towards House at a run, leaping into the air.

When Loki lands, he's no longer on two feet, but four, and he's covered head to paw in thick russet fur, a large white crest on his chest. He approaches quickly and finds that he's slightly smaller than House in wolf form, which doesn't surprise him, but then House tucks his ears back onto his skull and lowers his head, a show of respect, which does. The instinctual way a wolf responds to a superior is a given in any other pack, but knowing how House acts, how rarely his respect is given, Loki understands the seriousness of the gesture. Letting out a yip, Houses glowing blue eyes meet Loki's, his head tilting in curiosity. Loki releases a curt bark and takes off into the trees, House pausing a moment, and then bounding after him.

**Not sure if I'm completely happy with this, but I will update soon and we'll move on to what happens when House gets to the hospital, and see how long that no touching thing lasts with Cuddy *winks* Thanks for reading and reviewing. **


	5. Chapter 5

**I've been slacking on this story guys, and for that I apologize. I'll try to keep up with the updates regularly, but I suppose I should warn you not to expect more than one per week. I'll try to keep them long to tide you over till the next one. Thanks for reading/reviewing/favoriting/alerting, you guys are awesome. **

"You know yer gonna havta carry it round with ya, stubborn jackass. Right now It's all about appearances. You have to blend in." Loki's voice grew agitated as House argued with him. Again.

"I thought you said I'd have the. The glamour thing, what about that huh? I don't need that damn cane, I've been carrying that chunk of wood around for years. It was for my leg. Legs all better now!" His blue eyes were narrowed distastefully as he wrinkled his nose at the tool.

Loki sighed in exasperation, "Yes, yes, we know ya dunnae need it anymore, but THEY don't! How will you explain that you come back from bein sick for days and suddenly don't need yer cane anymore?"

House began to pace back and forth in front of the door, deep in thought. His brain searched for an excuse he could use and came up empty. "Shit!" He growled, stomping over to the couch and grasping his cane, forcing his fingers to grip the handle instead of snap it like a toothpick, something he could do easily now. "Fine. I'm going to work."

Loki sighed, calling out, "Remember not to let anyone-" House slammed the door behind him. "…touch yeh." He finished to the now empty living room. He rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the nagging feeling in his gut.

House half heartedly limped toward the hospital, the humor of him having to remember how to limp not escaping his notice. His grip on the cane is loose and the rubber tip hits the ground every third step. He's being lazy about it, but he figures no one will really notice. As he nears the lobby doors a wave of stench nearly doubles him over. He grips his nose with his free hand, hoping to staunch the flow of smells into his nostrils. He is over powered by the smell of the sick, dead, and dying. The sickly sweet smell of the pot a young janitor is carrying in his back pocket and the sharp antiseptic scent of bleach.

He takes care not to breathe through his nose, and keeps his face relaxed as he steps through the lobby. A heavyset woman wearing far too much perfume brushes past him and he has to halt his gag reflex. Layered beneath the perfume is the smell of her sweat and on her breath he can smell the meal she had before she left the house. His nose wrinkles in distaste and she spots it, assuming that he is disgusted by her appearance instead of her stench and huffs her way towards the clinic, clearly offended.

A feeling of dread pools in his stomach when he notices the elevator, already filling with people. It was bad enough in this open air, he doesn't even want to begin to imagine what it would be like in the enclosed small space. Taking a detour, hoping to sneak into the stairwell when no one is watching, he suddenly stops, catching on to a scent, the most delicious thing he's ever smelled.

Without conscious thought his feet move him in the direction of the smell, and he breathes in deeply as the smell grows stronger as he gets closer and closer to his target. His eyes close as he nears it, and suddenly it is there, filling the air around him, overpowering everything else. The smell is raw and indescribably attractive, like all his favorite smells combined in perfect harmony together. He dips his head to the source of the scent and his eyes open. He freezes.

"House… What the hell are you doing?" Lisa Cuddy's eyes are wide, staring at him incredulously as he stands before her, bent with his nose millimeters from hers. He blinks, his rational mind screaming at him to do something, while her scent in his nose batters against his defenses. He decides its safest to keep his body absolutely still, since he's still not sure what will happen if he moves.

"I'm going to work. I'm here on time and everything." He feels a rush of pleasure as her skin flushes and her heartbeat speeds up. She takes a shuddering breath, but doesn't step back, though his proximity is obviously unsettling her.

"I noticed… But why are you..Sniffing me?" Houses brain was struggling to take back control, but It's protest was drowned out by his senses, currently on overload as her breath hit his skin as she spoke. Normally he could easily avoid how he felt about her, how his stomach dropped when her steely blue gray eyes met his own, but her face looking up at him, so close, and her body clad in a deep red blouse and a sinfully tight skirt, with her scent filling the air, he couldn't restrain his tongue. It pissed him off.

"Because you smell so damn good." He had managed to keep his skin from making contact with hers, still somehow keeping Loki's words in his head, but he did tilt his head, encroaching further in on her space as he dipped his nose down near the hallow of her throat. Her hair haloed around her head, raven curls spilling over her shoulders, they were in the way. He growled in frustration and the sound rumbled through his chest.

She hadn't replied, her mouth opening and closing in surprise. Still she hadn't moved away, though her hands were twitching irritably at her sides, as if she didn't know where to put them. She watched his head tilt as he loomed in closer and she lifted her hands, aiming for his chest. She didn't know what she would do when she got them there, be it push him away or pull him to her. He couldn't stop himself as his hand lifted and moved the hair back, still not touching her skin, a feat that was becoming more difficult by the second. His nose sought out her pulse point, where he could both see and hear the blood pounding through her veins.

"House…" His name was but a whisper on her lips, because as he was intoxicated by her, she responded in kind. His body was so warm, the heat from his long lean frame washed over her in waves. He was so hot! Literally. She felt like she had her face turned to a bright summer sun. She wondered briefly if his skin would burn her if she touched it. "House are you sick?"

His nose was just centimeters from her skin now, his breathing deep as he inhaled as much of that spine-tingling fragrance as he could. He held her essence in his lungs, further befuddling his already taxed brain. "No. Not sick." He shook his head and good feel the tiny hairs on her neck tickle the tip of his nose as they stood on end.

Her brow furrowed together even as she shivered as his deep baritone rumbled directly below her ear. His breath was warm on her skin and everything about him seemed to ooze testosterone and masculinity. "Are you sure? I'm pretty sure you've got a fever." Her hands now had a destination and purpose, she lifted them to his forehead, hoping to check his temperature the old fashioned way.

He felt more than saw her hands moving through the air to touch him and he silently cursed the easy way they invaded the others personal space. Not that he could really talk right now as his nose was nearly buried in her throat. Quickly he straightened and took a step back. To his utter surprise, the now useless cane further hindered him by catching behind his foot, effectively tripping him.

Cuddy had not been expecting his sudden withdrawal from her, feeling oddly bereft of something, and even more so when she saw his arm flail out to the side as he began to fall. Instinctively, she reached for him, her small fingers wrapping around his wrist. He far outweighed her, and the uselessness of the gesture became apparent as she toppled forward with him. Her eyes closed as she felt the fall coming, and her heavy thud against the floor of her office was softened only slightly by his body beneath hers.

The long planes of him felt sculpted and strong beneath her and an entirely feminine desire flooded through her bloodstream. She opened her eyes to look up at him, trying to plan some sentence that could sound apologetic and stern without revealing how badly she wanted to run her hands all over his body and suddenly froze. "What the fu-…"

This wasn't possible. This was not the same House from just moments ago. His face was smoother, the lines faded out and his hair had lost all touches of gray, become a thick and dark rich auburn. The body beneath her seemed longer then before, as if he had suddenly grown a few feet, and his chest was more broad. It was as if the man, already so much larger than life in her eyes, had gotten even bigger. His dazzling blue eyes were trained on her and his arms, which had somehow found their way around her waist, tightened slightly. "Cuddy, I need you to stay calm alright? Let me explain." As he spoke, one hand made its way up her back to touch her face.

His palm was hot on her skin, just as warm as she had expected, and as she looked down into his eyes, fighting the strong urge to panic at the strange events of the morning, they seemed to glow brilliant yellow, and a dark mask seemed to flash over his features for a moment that looked…she didn't know what it looked like. "Not possible." She scrambled backwards and away, not stopping until her desk was between them, as if it was offering her sanctuary from… from what?

House got to his feet slowly so as not to alarm her, keeping his palms extended outwards. He left the cane on the floor, no longer needing to keep up the façade. "Well that wasn't supposed to happen."

She pointed her finger at him, "You stay where you are House. What do you mean that wasn't supposed to happen? What the hell even was _that_?"

He tried to think of a fun sarcastic way to explain his sudden change of species and came up blank. "That was something you weren't supposed to see. Though I suppose if you could keep your hands off me it wouldn't have been so hard."

Her indignation at his comment momentarily overpowered her fear, "Say's the one who had their nose buried in my neck saying I smelled good!"

His head actually dropped in chagrin, and his left foot kicked the floor absently. He was the very picture of a scolded schoolboy. He suddenly remembered himself and stood straight, his now even more impressive height obvious to Cuddy, his glamour gone. "Well, you do."

Cuddy was torn between cowering in fear behind her desk or growling in frustration that he wasn't answering her question. Cuddy was NOT a woman to cower so she did the latter. "House what the hell is going on with you? Why are you so… so.." She struggled to find a word that would adequately describe what House was now. Outrageously tall? A voice in the back of her head offered up a few words. Dangerously sexy. Roguishly handsome. She silenced the voice even as she agreed. He had always been attractive to her, but now, he seemed to exude sex appeal through his pores.

"I'm so what, Cuddy?" He snorted, tapping his foot while he waited, "What do you think I am now?"

She tried to come up with something and failed so she finished lamely, "Different. How did you get so different? I saw you three days ago and you were perfectly fi-" She had a sudden lightbulb. He hadn't been fine the last time she saw him, he'd been avoiding eye contact, hunching over and keeping his head down. "What was that about?"

House sighed. He should have known she would notice, would connect the dots. He deliberated how to tell her, seeing as there was no way she would let it go now. When she wanted something, she could be just as stubborn as he was. He settled for saying it quick, like ripping off a band aid. "I'm a werewolf Cuddy."

She stared at him, a small guffaw of disbelief escaping her throat. Surely he was joking, a horrible not at all funny joke. It just wasn't possible. Was it? "What do you mean you're a 'werewolf'"?

House adopted his 'duh' tone. "Well Cuddy by that I mean that when I want to, I can turn into a wolf. A pretty big one too. Oh and on the full moon too. Which was last night, which is why I can be here now."

Cuddy dropped into her chair, still staring. He was serious, his tone, obviously meant to play off truthfulness of his words, proved it. "You're not joking." She stared at his face, remembering the darkening she had spotted earlier, and the golden light of his eyes. Yes that had been what she had seen, she'd seen the shadow of the wolf.

He grinned wolfishly at her, and the fitting description of his expression struck her as hideously funny. "She's a bright one after all." He dropped the grin and his expression became deadly serious, "You can't tell anyone."

She stared at him, he looked so powerful, and they were alone, and she waited for any type of fear to hit her. She should feel threatened, or unnerved, or something. Nothing came. Instead she just felt strangely curious, she wanted to know more. "I won't… How?"

He knew what she meant without her needing to elaborate, and shrugged. "I have no idea. I just know that I feel better than I have my entire life. And my leg is completely healed. I haven't gotten around to interrogating Loki abo- Shit." He cut his sentence off. He hadn't meant to mention Loki. _Well if she's gonna stick around she might as well meet him._ _Wait, is she even going to hang around? All she said was that she wouldn't tell._

He found himself hoping that she would, that he could tell her about all the wonderful new things he was experiencing, as long as he got to keep her scent in his nose.

"Loki? That's the 'friend' that's been staying with you?" She shook her head. Then the other detail snapped into place. "Your leg is healed? Completely regenerated?" The image of his mangled thigh the last time she had seen it, in this very office in fact, had been a horrifying memory. She couldn't imagine what it looked like now.

He nodded to answer her question, and a smirk quirked his lips as he suddenly dropped his jeans, in a move incredibly similar to the last time he had done so. Cuddy's jaw dropped as her eyes zoned in on his right thigh, now in absolutely pristine condition. Lean, well defined muscle with not a scratch or dent or imperfection was all she could see. She didn't notice that she had rounded her desk to stand in front of him once more. "It's gone." She whispered in astonishment. She looked and her eyes drifted up, then darted quickly away from the bulge in the front of his boxers, a blush coloring her cheeks.

He chuckled watching her, and pulled his jeans back up into place. "Yep, I'm fit as a fiddle now."

She recovered quickly, exerting her expert control over her facial expression. There was so much she wanted to know, so much she wanted to ask him. One thing took precedence in her mind over all others, "I want to see you change."

**DUN DUN DUN… not really. Just a bit of a cliff hanger. Will he let her see? When and where if he does? And I bet you all knew the no touching thing wouldn't last too long with our lovely pair. Again I apologize profusely for taking so long to update. And for anybody who's also reading Keep Breathing, an update for that should be up within a few days. Hopefully. Thank you all to those still reading or reviewing or alerting, it means a lot to me. Hope you enjoyed! **


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